


The Prerogative of Cats

by creampuffer



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-06 01:38:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/413298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creampuffer/pseuds/creampuffer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p> Written for this prompt for <a href="http://ksadvent.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://ksadvent.livejournal.com/"></a><b>ksadvent</b>:  Spock, noticing how lonely Jim is now that most of their friends are paired off, decides to get Jim a cat for Christmas, a playful tabby that reminds him of Jim.  Unfortunately the cat escapes his quarters on Christmas Eve, and Spock spends the night trying to track it down, with no success.  Forced to face Jim without a present, and having no sleep, Spock is baffled to come to Jim’s quarters and find Jim’s present curled up with another cat, a svelte, staid black cat with large ears.  It seems great minds think alike - and it would be a shame to separate the two cats from each other now that they are friends, wouldn’t it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Prerogative of Cats

**Author's Note:**

> LOOK AT THIS GORGEOUS AND PERFECT [FANART ](http://pointe-dancer01.livejournal.com/3303.html)FROM THE LOVELY [](http://pointe-dancer01.livejournal.com/profile)[ **pointe_dancer01**](http://pointe-dancer01.livejournal.com/) (but maybe after you read bc it is a tiny bit spoilerish? maybe?)

 

Spock was not in the habit of participating in the customs associated with the Terran holiday of Christmas. Truly, it was an unremarkable time, filled with the illogic of mistletoe, eggnog and gift giving. For the first two years, Spock had the unfortunate responsibility of rebuffing any unwanted attention from the other officers on board Enterprise; never being caught under any hanging plants, turning down suspicious smelling drinks and declining anything wrapped. Politely of course.

After two years, the crew was intelligent enough to desist with futile attempts at pulling Spock into the festivities of the occasion. Even Nyota knew better than to do more than extend two fingers in a chaste, familial type kiss as a way of saying “Merry Christmas.”

But not the Captain. No. Jim was the height of illogic as year after year he insisted on doting upon Spock with gifts and unnecessary and alarming attention. Spock had learned to accept his Captain’s gifts as they grew into a startlingly fulfilling friendship, yet he had never felt a need to reciprocate.

Until now. His Captain needed something in which to lift his spirits.

Spock sensed it, more than anything, an unease that he could not shake. Anyone with an observant eye could see the slumped line of Jim’s form. Where once, his Captain stood tall, cut an imposing figure amongst the still young and untried crew, now he looked simply defeated. Spock did not know how or why he knew that. But as he observed his friend, saw the lines of displeasure mar the exquisite features of the very human face, Spock could come to no other conclusion.

Jim was unhappy.

And Spock had determined the source of Jim’s discontent after a time - one month, two weeks and four days - after his initial observation.

Jim was lonely.

It was inevitable that during their five year mission aboard Enterprise, there would be those that chose to disregard the fraternization rules and seek companionship amongst peers. Inevitable that out of the 426 personnel, 76% of which was human, there would be an emotional and physical need to share one’s self with another of close, personal association. Though he was raised in the Vulcan way, Spock had a deeper understanding of this need - especially after the Narada. Was it not he who allowed the comfort of Nyota’s soft hands and lips? True, he had chosen not to continue any type of liaison with the Lieutenant, but he did have his Vulcan heritage to account for. He did not need someone, despite what the smaller, human portion of his brain insisted.

But Jim. He was fully human and fully needed someone to share his...everything.

It was not as though regulations prohibited any type of fraternization, but amongst higher ranking crew it was frowned upon. Especially if a relationship was formed with someone of lower ranking. Spock could only assume that was the reason behind the Captain’s constant decline of invitations passed on by his subordinates. Although Jim had become somewhat famous for finding “loopholes” to get around those rules that stood in the way of his goals, it seemed this was one he chose not to ignore.

What Spock had not accounted for, no matter the calculations he could have done, was the fact that so many members of the senior bridge crew, of Jim’s friends and acquaintances, would pair off. It was shocking to even Spock whenever Sulu and Chekov emerged from Sulu’s quarters each morning, flushed and sweaty. Or when Dr. McCoy would make up excuses to come to the bridge, just to speak to Nyota. Even Mr. Scott was not immune. For someone so dedicated to his work, the engineer had been spending more time trying to find Yeoman Rand than tend to his “girl.”

He could only assume Jim had never imagined the possibility either. Because no matter the smile he wore whenever he spoke to his friends, Jim could not hide from Spock. Spock saw the way Jim’s shoulders hunched slightly or how he tried to avoid running into those known to be romantically involved. And Spock definitely did not miss hearing the softly spoken, if not wistful, comments Jim always made upon having to endure seeing public displays of affection.

Seeing Jim that way caused an ache in his chest, as if his lungs did not function properly - which they did - and a clenching at his side as if his heart had stopped beating - which it didn’t. Spock did not relish seeing his friend in such a poor emotional state and decided to do something in order to cheer Jim up. He did not think he was capable of providing Jim with exactly what he most greatly desired - he was Vulcan after all, how was he to be an acceptable companion to such a very human...human - but he would try to find a substitute until Jim found someone suited for his needs.

And just like that, Spock had decided to give his very first Christmas gift.

\--

Spock found it, Jim’s gift, at an outpost on Cestus III. How a Terran feline came to be on the poorly funded and ill equipped outpost, Spock could only guess. But there it was, skinny, dirty and scrounging for food down an alley Spock had passed. Upon hearing Spock’s soft footfall, the cat’s ears had perked up, tilting towards the movement. Something in its demeanor made Spock stop. There was a fierceness there, in the wild eyes, that were a result of living on the streets. But Spock also saw something more; a tinge of fear mixed with desperate longing. That look, it caused a shiver to run down Spock’s spine. He’d seen it before, on the face of a young cadet standing tall but worried behind a stand in front of his peers.

Bending down, Spock reached out a hand and made soft clicking sounds with his tongue, urging the cat toward him. He tried to project a sense of calm and trust, hoping to reach the animal’s basic mind. It seemed to work as slowly the cat meandered over to Spock’s outstretched fingers, sniffing for 5.2 seconds before rubbing his dirty face against them. Spock tried hard not to cringe at the bacteria no doubt residing in the feline’s matted down fur. He somehow managed not to pull away at the touch of sandpaper against the pad of his forefinger.

Before long, the cat had managed to climb into Spock’s arms, purring and burrowing his head under Spock’s chin. The affection Spock felt through the animal’s thoughts were clear and somehow, in such a short time, he knew this tiny thing was perfect for Jim.

“Come with me, pi’ne-lan. I have someone for you to meet.”

Spock hid the as-of-the-moment sedate cat under the robes he wore to ward off the chill in the air and called for immediate beam up. He did not much wish to linger planetside in the strong likelihood Jim came looking for him. Spock could not be discovered with his...contraband.

\--

After two baths and so many scratches Spock lost count, Pi’ne- lan, as Spock had so named him, was clean. His fur, now fluffed out in what closely resembled a tribble thanks to the static charge in Spock’s towel, was a beautiful shade of pale orange. It only lent to the likeness Spock associated with Jim. He brushed down the fur, tamed it with his hands, and enjoyed the softness at his fingertips. Spock wondered - not for the first time - if Jim’s hair was as soft as it looked; soft like the cat’s.

Shaking off the thought, Spock set Pi’ne-lan down and headed towards the replicator. “You are far too skinny, kwai-veh.” He ordered tuna, the closest thing he could think of to cat food, and left the room to avoid the strong fish scent he would never grow used to.

\--

“Where’d you disappear to so fast?” Spock nearly ran head first into Jim, who was at his door upon Spock’s departure.

“I beg your pardon?”

He wanted to step back into the safety of his room. Being so close to Jim always felt dangerous. But he could not hope to go without being followed. And Jim could not see the cat, lest he ask questions. Spock could not lie, not because he was Vulcan but because he could never deny the Captain answers. If Jim entered Spock’s quarters, the surprise of the gift would be ruined.

“Earlier, on Cestus III. You wandered off and next thing I know, you’re already back on the ship. I thought we were going to explore the mineral composition up on the cliffs together?”

They were supposed to. In the excitement of his discovery of the cat, he had forgotten.

“There was a pressing matter on board that required my immediate attention.”

Jim frowned. “So important that you didn’t have the time to tell me first?”

That look of desperate loneliness, the one Jim so often wore these days, appeared. Spock was loathe to cause it.

“Forgive me, Jim. Perhaps I can, as you say, make it up to you?”

A grin crept onto Jim’s face, one Spock didn’t recognize. “Oh yeah?” When Spock nodded, Jim asked, “how?”

“Perhaps a game of chess.”

The grin grew into a full out smile. Jim moved closer to Spock. “Sounds great.”

But when Jim stepped forward, as if to enter Spock’s quarters, Spock blocked him and Jim frowned again.

“Spock?”

“I believe it is your turn to host our game.” He hoped Jim did not notice the way his face tried to betray him by twitching at the avoidance.

“Oh. Okay.”

Spock hoped again. But this time it was that the small cat in his rooms would not get into any trouble while he was gone. Especially since his games with Jim tended to last several hours before both were satisfied enough to retire.

\--

In the two weeks that led up to Christmas, Spock had discovered three things about the tabby currently taking up residency in his quarters.

The first was that Pi’ne-lan loved food. To the point of no discriminatory taste whatsoever. The feline would consume anything as long as it was food; sometimes if it only resembled food as Spock came to find out about the flowering cactus Jim had given him last year for the holiday. The tabby had what Jim would call a sweet tooth (something the two had in common) pawing at Spock with added determination whenever he indulged himself with something sugary. In fact, Pi-ne-lan enjoyed eating so much he had already gained 3.6 pounds, filling the skinny frame of his body and making him look more like the healthy adult male he should be.

Second, the orange tabby was extremely affectionate. Spock had feared, upon first taking him home, that the cat would not be so as a result of its suffering at the outpost. He should have known there would be no concern upon Pi’ne-lan’s first interaction with Spock. The cat genuinely enjoyed Spock’s company, bumping against his hand, leg or whatever body part he could reach. It was not uncommon for Spock to wake up and find the tabby pressed against his side, no doubt using the heat from Spock’s body to keep itself warm. And Spock had grown so used to the feel of the tiny, pink tongue against his skin, it was no longer gritty. Though no less...malodorous. He doubted Jim would mind though. He was just as free with his affection as this cat was.

The last fact Spock came to discover was how good Pi’ne-lan was at hiding. Many times Spock would enter his quarters after shift to find the cat missing. The very first time, a heavy fear settled inside Spock. No matter how Spock called to him, the cat would not appear. He worried the cat had figured a way out of his rooms. But how? The automatic sensor for the door needed a minimum of 75 pounds of weight to be activated. He only relaxed when, after 2.8 hours, Pi’ne-lan emerged for his nightly feeding. Still, Spock programmed his personal computer to recognize the tabby’s heat signature to reassure him. He had ended up using it four times, only to discover the cat’s propensity for squeezing into the smallest places possible, before believing it was no longer necessary.

\--

Christmas Eve, Spock came back to his quarters directly after Alpha shift. He had invited Jim to join him for an early dinner in the officers’ mess. But Jim had excused himself; in a hurry to get wherever it was he needed to be.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning though, right?”

Spock nodded. “Yes, though I still do not know the precise meaning behind the vague time of “bright and early”.”

“As soon as you wake up,” Jim’s retreating figure called back. “I’m excited to see how you like your gift!”

“I have obtained a gift for you as well this year.”

The words made Jim come to an abrupt hault. “You did?”

“Yes.”

“Oh God, that’s...okay wow. I really gotta go now. But seriously? I can’t wait for tomorrow, okay?”

Though Spock felt and knew disappointment at Jim’s refusal, it was for the best. He needed to ready Pi’ne-lan for tomorrow. For when Jim opened his gift and knew companionship in the furry, warm body. He hoped seeing the cat would erase the look of loneliness from Jim’s face.

\--

He managed to secure a bright red bow on the feline’s collar. But just barely. it seemed the tabby was reluctant to wear it. One hind paw kept coming up to scratch the place where bow was tied.

“No, Pi’ne-lan.”

The cat stopped to look up at Spock - who very rarely spoke so firmly with him - but resumed scratching once he deemed Spock a non-threat.

Spock decided to switch tactics. He brought out the large green box he’d managed to procure at their last stop over on Starbase 4 and placed it on the table. Pi’ne-lan was still scratching when Spock picked him up. At least in this instance, the bow proved a good distraction from the imminent placement of cat inside box.

Though the tabby must have picked up on Spock’s thoughts somewhat. As soon as Spock neared the gift box, Pi’ne-lan began to meow. The cat rarely made a noise other than the steady thrum of a purr. It startled Spock to the point he almost dropped him. And when Pi’ne-lan began to struggle in his grasp, Spock did.

The cat made to run away. It was fortuitous that Spock was just as quick and agile, grabbing the scruff of Pi’ne-lan’s neck and holding the now thrashing body tight against his body.

Spock needed to get the tabby securely inside the gift box. No matter how Spock held him, Pi’ne-lan managed to get at least two legs free, gripping the sides of the box with amazing strength. He kicked out his hind legs when Spock tried to lower him end in first, tipping over the box completely. It was amazing to see how the cat could twist its body in Spock’s grasp, working himself free just enough to keep from going inside.

“Why do you struggle so? You must go in the box, kwai-veh. Tomorrow is Christmas and Jim deserves such a good gift as you.”

No matter what Spock said, how he tried to mentally direct the cat to stop and calm down, he wouldn’t. Pi’ne-lan proved to be quite stubborn and persistent in his attempts at escape. Much like his future owner, Spock noted wryly. It would be interesting to see how Jim handled the cat.

“Perhaps it would be best to take a break.” As soon as paws hit the ground, Pi’ne-lan darted under the bed. “Are you hungry?” Spock was not giving up. Just switching tactics. And biding his time.

An orange head popped out and eyed Spock warily.

“Let us eat, Pi’ne-lan.”

The perk of ears told Spock the cat understood. The sudden bump against his leg told Spock he had been forgiven. Pi’ne-lan was not one to hold grudges. So much like his Captain.

To avoid the nauseating stench of fish, Spock had learned to program a sequence in the replicator that produced a dry feed; full of vegetables, grain, and yes even meat. Which was far more nutritionally balanced than anything else available.

Spock sat at his table, finishing his steamed vegetables, when a light weight landed on his lap. he looked down to see Pi’ne-lan licking his chops and giving him a look Spock was all too familiar with. He had seen the exact same look on Jim, usually after meals while he eyed the dessert table Dr. McCoy so expressly forbade Jim from visiting more than three times a week. The look had long stopped working on the doctor, but Spock admitted to himself seven moths, two weeks and four days (it was especially memorable due to the circumstances, Jim had just recovered from a near death experience on a newly discovered planet and wanted just one more cup of jello) that he was not immune.

“Very well, pi’veh.” he stood up, scooping the now purring cat in his arms, and went to the replicator to get tuna for the tabby. “A Christmas Eve treat.”

Spock hoped the cat would prove happy and content with a stomach full of fish and be more complacent with Spock’s attempts at wrapping him for Jim’s gift.

But hearing the wet smacking as Pi’ne-lan ate, and smelling the pungent aroma, proved to be too much.

“I will return once you have finished eating.”

His first instinct was to stop by Jim’s quarters to spend his time waiting. But remembering Jim’s rush to leave he decided against it. There was an odd pang of loneliness in Spock’s mind as he turned towards the lift and the science labs.

\--

When Spock returned to his quarters, he expected to find Pi’ne-lan curled up asleep on his bed. Spock had once tried to dissuade the tabby from sleeping on his bed, with no success. But the cat was not there. Spock looked at all of his usual spots with no success. Calling out for the cat yielded nothing. Even producing a bowl of chocolate ice cream - something Pi’ne-lan could never resist - did nothing to draw the creature out.

“Computer, locate Pi’ne-lan’s heat signature.”

The computer responded with, “unable to locate,” and Spock grew worried.

He repeated the request five more times before accepting the accuracy of the program; and thus the fact that Pi’ne-lan was not inside his rooms. He could not fathom how the tabby escaped. Spock only knew Enterprise was a very large ship And very dangerous to one not familiar with it.

Anything could happen to the defenseless cat. With that thought, Spock hurried out in search of the orange tabby.

\--

The corridors were mostly empty as Spock methodically walked down each one. It was both blessing and curse as he did not have to explain his wanderings to anyone, yet could not ask for assistance in finding the cat. He did not know how fruitful his searching would be. If Pi’ne-lan did not wish to be found, he would stay hidden. But Spock could not give up. Quickening his stride, Spock rounded a corner and pushed himself on.

His first break in the case of the missing tabby came as Spock entered the main mess hall. Jim had deemed it “necessary” to decorate for the holidays, replicating a ten foot Douglas Fir to be displayed in every common area. One such tree stood in the south corner of the mess, lights blinking and ornaments resting on bowed branches.

As Spock neared the tree, he noticed a string of lights on the bottom of the tree had slipped off the branches. There were also ornaments on the ground. Some broken. Some that looked suspiciously like they had been chewed on.

Of course Pi’ne-lan would venture to a place associated with food. The cat was always hungry. He probably smelled food and followed his nose to this place. And when he found none, Spock ventured a guess the cat chose to entertain itself with the tree. Upon further inspection, Spock noticed the displacement of several branches, as if the tabby had tried to climb up the tree. There were also spots of water trailing away from the fir, in the opposite direction in which Spock had arrived.

He followed the path, though not for long as it had begun to dry. A thorough search of the mess resulted still in no orange tabby. Spock was frustrated but could not deny relief at knowing his cat was safe.

\--

At the entrance to one of the Rec Rooms, Spock found a mangled piece of mistletoe on the ground. He knew for a fact it had started off secured to the top of the entrance. He’d seen Sulu place bundles of mistletoe at various points throughout the ship. Now bits and pieces lay scattered on the floor. It seemed impossible, yet...Yet Pi’ne-lan had managed to leave Spock’s quarters. Also seemingly impossible. Spock walked into the room.

What he found should not have surprised him.

Chekov had held a contest for gingerbread house building (he claimed they were invented in Russia, which was why he should judge). The entries were being kept in this room to be displayed for viewing. There had been some truly magnificent builds. Now all Spock saw were pieces of candy scattered around the floor and crumbs of gingerbread on the tables.

It was unfortunate that so many displays had been compromised as a result of his gift to Jim. But there was nothing to be done now. Besides find the cat and stop it from causing more destruction.

\--

When Spock began searching again, a level lower and a corridor over, he stepped in something that squished under his foot and knew he was too late.

Vomit.

He liked to think himself able to withstand anything that came his way. But try as he might, the sight and smell of vomit made Spock squeamish.

Limping over to the wall unit, Spock called up the order for a cleaning bot to take care of the mess. He did his best to scrape the mess off the sole of his boot then left. He did not think he could stand the byproduct of Pi’ne-lan’s overindulgence.

\--

It was past midnight ship’s time and Spock had still not found the tabby. Twice he stopped at his quarters to see if Pi’ne-lan had returned. Twice the computer indicated he had not. And both times his bed looked especially inviting. He was due for sleep, having spent the past three nights in meditation instead, and felt fatigue in his system.

Spock was beyond searching sector by sector for the cat. It was of no use. Yet he could not give up. He needed help or he’d never have Jim’s gift ready on time.

“Nyota?” He called through the comm at the Lieutenant’s door.

“Spock?” Her sleepy voice cracked.

“May I enter?”

There was no response, but the door chimed open and Spock walked in to the darkened room.

“What’s going on?” Nyota was still in bed, Spock’s sensitive eyes could see, under cover and barely managing to lift up to look back at him.

“I need your help with Jim’s Christmas present.”

There was silence for too long. No doubt Nyota was processing the information Spock had just given her. That he, dubbed the official Grinch of the Enterprise, was planning on giving someone a gift. And to the Captain no less.

“Don’t you think it’s a little late for that? Christmas is tomorrow.”

“I have already acquired a gift. It is finding said gift that is proving troublesome.”

“You misplaced it?” Nyota sat up, now more awake and interested in what happened.

“Not precisely. More accurately it misplaced itself.”

She called for lights to 25% and looked more closely at Spock. “It’s alive?”

“It is a cat.”

\--

Spock spent the next hour and fifteen minutes - only because Nyota kept interrupting - explaining how he came to find Pi’ne-lan and discover its potential as a gift for Jim.

“You named it Little Cadet? Oh Spock. You’re such a fool, aren’t you?”

He bristled at her words. “I do not believe insults are necessary, Nyota.”

“No! I didn’t mean like that! Just that you’re such an idiot.”

“Hardly better than a fool.” Spock stood to go. “If you did not wish to help me, you had only to say.”

Nyota reached out and grabbed onto Spock’s hand. She never did that if it could be helped.

“Of course I want to help you. I just don’t know if I can really.”

“I see.” He sat down on Nyota’s bed and let his body droop ever so slightly.

“All I can say is you need to think like a cat.” Spock opened his mouth to respond but Nyota went on. “Most cats are creatures of habit. Sure they have an adventurous side. But deep down they stick to what they know they like. With food, shelter, and people. If he got out tonight, chances are he’s gotten out before.”

Spock had...not thought of that. But he could see the wisdom in Nyota’s thought process.

“That does not help me much.”

“I didn’t say it would. Just keep in mind he’s probably been visiting the same spot every time he’s left your quarters. And chances are it’s somewhere he really likes being. Whether it’s somewhere warm or dark or...I don’t know. If you were a cat, where would you hide?”

He did not see how placing himself in the unlikely scenario would help. Nevertheless, images of a brightly lit, though somewhat chilly, living space came to mind. Spock recognized it immediately as Jim’s work space. It could hardly be described as Spock’s favorite place to go to, as he frequented many other parts of the ship.

Like the observation deck. Where Jim and he often discussed future plans for missions. Or anything else the Captain fancied at the time.

Like the exercise rooms Jim and he used to spar.

The table they always sat at for breakfast, lunch and dinner. When they were able to meet up together.

Or the...

“Spock?”

“Forgive me. I was thinking.”

And coming to the conclusion that Spock didn’t have a favorite place to be. But he did have a favorite person. The revelation was startling in its simplicity. For Spock should have always known that he went wherever the human went. It made him feel...content like nothing else.

“Thank you for your help. It has been most enlightening, Nyota.”

She smiled at him, a little too knowingly, and settled back in bed. Spock did not mind seeing himself out.

\--

He was no closer to finding Pi’ne-lan, but now something else had him wide awake and roaming the halls of Enterprise. Nyota was right. Spock was a fool. The reason behind the gift. Why Spock was so concerned at finding the cat. It all came back to Jim. How had he not seen that he too suffered a loneliness akin to Jim’s? He recognized that his friend could fill that void for him, but Spock still doubted his abilities to be what Jim wanted. Assuming Jim even wanted him. Which Spock could not do. He had nothing to base the assumption off of, other than the Captain enjoying his company. But that did not mean much. Jim probably enjoyed anyone’s company, as long as it was freely given to him. How could Spock even come to find out who Jim preferred? Without outright asking? Spock was not so bold.

Thoughts along a similar vein carried Spock’s foots through the ship until ship’s morning. His body ached. As did his mind. He was in desperate need of meditation and sleep. But all Spock could think about was the disappointment in Jim’s eyes if he showed up empty handed for their first ever gift exchange.

Jim had said “bright and early.” And though Spock doubted Jim meant this early, he walked to Jim’s door.

There was no answer to his call, but now that Spock was determined to admit he had lost Jim’s gift, there was no stopping him. He knew Jim’s code, his friend had given it to him as a show of friendship and trust, and used it to enter.

Jim’s quarters were dimly lit but still cheery with the twinkling of small white Christmas lights. The sight saddened Spock. Jim loved this time of year but often spent it alone save for Spock as company. Jim deserved more.

He continued past the partition which separated living from sleeping areas and found Jim asleep, curled on his side, back to Spock.

Jim so seldomly received the sleep adequate to keep a human functioning at optimum levels. Spock did not wish to wake his friend. But he felt a need to walk over to the side of the bed, shake Jim gently awake and confess that he had no gift to give.

“Jim.” It came out as a whisper.

Naturally, the man did not move a muscle at Spock’s faint call.

“Jim.” He spoke louder. And again once more with more volume. “Jim.”

This time, his friend rolled over at the sound, still asleep but now on his back and face moved toward Spock. The new position afforded Spock an unimpeded view of Jim laying on his bed.

And of a pale orange tabby curled up against him.

“Pi’ne-lan!” Spock cried louder than he intended. He noticed the tabby had managed to get rid of the bow somehow.

“Huh? Whu?” Jim sat straight up, eyes blinking in confusion at the sudden outburst. He rubbed at his eyes, then his cheeks, and shook his head.

Pi’ne-lan did not move a muscle.

“Spock?”

“Jim.”

“I know I said bright and early, but damn.” He chuckled softly.

“My apologies for waking you Captain -”

“Jim.”

“-Jim. I only wished to explain why I was empty handed for our gift exchange. Only -”

“It’s okay Spock.” Jim swung his feet over the side of the bed. “You didn’t need to get me anything at all. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you did.”

There was an odd sort of chirrup sound Spock had never heard before, coming from what he could only assume was Pi’ne-lan. He looked more closely and was shocked to see a second Terran feline stretched out alongside the tabby.

Long, lithe and black, the cat’s fur was short and glossy even in the low light. It’s head rested on the tabby’s side and Spock noticed ears too large to be all together aesthetically pleasing to most. Still, the cat was strangely beautiful.

It opened one green eye and stared right at Spock.

“Who is your friend, Pi’ne-lan?”

“Pi what now?”

A loud purr directed Jim’s attention back to his side. When he noticed the shock of orange fur next to him, he startled slightly.

“Where did you come from?” His hand stroked slowly down the cat’s spine and tail, pulling it away from its body to watch it curl back around again.

“Jim, meet Pi’ne-lan. He comes from Cestus III. And me. Merry Christmas.”

As if to second Spock’s words, Pi’ne-lan meowed too. He turned his bright eyes on Jim until the human pet him once more.

Laughter bubbled out of Jim, shaking his entire body, until Spock feared he had chosen a gift poorly.

“Captain?”

“Spock, oh my god, you have no idea!” Jim reached over the tabby with both hands and picked up the black cat. He held out her still stretched out body to Spock. “This is Vaksur. My Christmas gift to you.”

He walked over and took the sleeping feline from Jim. “You got me a cat as well? From where?”

Jim shrugged. “The last starbase. I saw her and immediately thought of you.”

Spock eyed the cat. “Why?”

“When I saw her, she was all alone in one corner of a cage; the rest of her litter crowding the front for attention from shoppers. She was smaller than the rest, but looked so strong. And she made me work for her affection. But just like everyone else, she’s not immune to my charm.” Jim stood up and scratched under one of the overly large ears. “Plus, she’s got such cute ears. Isn’t that right, pretty girl?”

That strange chirrup sound came again. This time Spock knew its source.

“What made you think to give me a cat?”

“I could ask you the same, you know.” Jim kept his eyes trained on the black cat as he continued to speak. “But I suppose it’s because I felt like you could use someone, something, in your life that could give you the attention you deserve. Not too demanding of your time but always there when you needed some affection. Something to keep you company. To keep you from getting too lonely when you’re surrounded by us silly humans that couldn’t possibly hope to keep you satisfied.

As Jim spoke, Spock’s grip tightened; the words his friend using so closely mirroring his own reasons for the gift choice. He did not realize how hard he held onto the cat, though, until the thing meowed angrily and worked its way out of his grasp, landing softly on its feet and moving back towards Jim’s bed. It jumped gracefully up and settled next to Pi’ne-lan again.

“Looks like they like each other.”

Spock noted the familiarity in which the two cats curled around each other. As if they had done so several times before. He knew now where Pi’ne-lan had been dissappearing to. It made him think again of what Nyota had said.

A strong sense of determination filled Spock as he thought of Jim, still standing at his side. Just like always. It was not only Spock who sought out Jim’s company. How many times had he been working only to be interrupted by an offer of a game of chess? Or an invitation to spend shore leave together?

Perhaps It was not only a cat’s prerogative to frequent those it liked best. Perhaps it was also a Vulcan’s. And a human’s.

“I would imagine as much as the two that purchased them.”

Spock held his breath as he waited for Jim to respond. It seemed to take much longer than the seven seconds it actually was.

“Yeah?”

He felt the weight of Jim’s gaze as the human turned to look at him, standing that much closer to Spock’s body.

“Indeed.” He turned as well, holding out his hand and seeing Jim’s answering one come together in a Vulcan kiss.

“I’m really glad. Don’t want to separate these two. They’d get too lonely.”

Jim closed the remaining distance and placed his lips softly against Spock’s. They stayed that way for some time, mouths brushing in gentle kisses as their fingers stroked slowly against each other, until Jim pulled away.

“You wanna lay down?”

Spock thought for a moment, looking longingly at the pillow which still held the indent of Jim’s sleeping head, and nodded. “I am...fatigued.”

“Come on, then.”

The two walked back to the bed until Spock was able to sink into it. It was incredibly warm as Jim brought the covers up around his shoulders. And even more so when two twin bodies of heat nestled next to him. Spock rolled toward the cats and felt them adjust to the curve of his body.

“You will stay?”

“Of course, Spock.”

Jim settled behind him, pressing closer than they’d ever been before. Spock felt surrounded by warmth and happiness, felt companionship on all sides of him. He drifted off with his hand stroking one of the cats, he was unsure which, and Jim’s hand stroking his side.

The last things he heard before succumbing to sleep fully were the sounds of purring and Jim’s soft voice. “Merry Christmas, Spock.”

 

_*Vulcan translations_  
 _Pi'ne-lan_ : Little Cadet  
 _pi'veh_ : little one  
 _kwai-veh_ : wild one  



End file.
